Over Your Shoulders
by enkasai
Summary: When the future's right in front of you, it's easy to forget about the things you've left behind. [Personal fic, slightly Haruka x OC]
1. portrait of a dead girl

"Well, then. Why don't we start with the basics?"

* * *

The girl named Mizunashi Kazuya was born on the 8th of January.

Her parents weren't very creative people—they named all their children after the dates they were born so no one could complain about their birthdays being forgotten. With Kazuya being the youngest, they had three other children whose names were Yoichi, born April 1st; Juugo, born October 5th; and Nanami, born July 3rd.

The Mizunashi family lives in an old home inherited by Kenshou, the father, in the town of Iwatobi. The eldest, Yoichi, is currently studying comparative literature at a college in Tokyo. The second eldest, Juugo, is also in college, studying computer engineering at a university in Osaka. Their eldest girl, Nanami, is a third year high school student in Iwatobi High, and the youngest child, Kazuya, is a second year student in the same high school.

The father, Kenshou, is an accountant for a publishing company, while the mother, Ayami, is a housewife who sometimes helps out at her brother's general goods store. Both parents are good and kind people who always make sure that their children are faring well. Both sets of grandparents have unfortunately passed on. Ayami's brother has a wife and two kids of his own—they are both still in elementary, and Ayami's two girls take turns babysitting them when needed.

The Mizunashi couple always encourages the children to do their best. They are loving parents who wholeheartedly support their children's interests and endeavors. For that reason, the Mizunashi children have several medals, trophies, certificates, and plaques their mother puts on display at the house. The children value the encouragement of their parents and siblings and are always able to do their best and bring pride and honor to their family.

* * *

**Over Your Shoulders**

_[look back, look back_

_over your shoulders._

_why are you rushing?_

_we have all the time_

_in the world, in the world.]_

* * *

_1_. portrait of a dead girl

* * *

"That's good and all," the black-haired boy sitting in front of me said, doodling mindlessly on the margins of his notebook, "but I'm not supposed to write about your family."

Nanase Haruka was drawing a grill with slabs of some kind of fish—I think it was fish—on it. It was actually a very good, very realistic-looking drawing, and the way he smudged the pencil lead to form the smoke rising on top was almost expert. I understand that it was the period before lunch and he was probably hungry, but he could at least try to look a bit livelier.

For an activity for Japanese Language class, the teacher, Hatakeyama-sensei, randomly paired everyone up and asked them to write a short biography of their partner. As an icebreaker thing, it came quite late into the school year, with it being September already and all. While the members of class 2-1 weren't quite sharing deep, dark secrets and juice boxes with each other yet, the cliques and groups had formed and everyone at least knew everyone else's names. The biography activity didn't seem like a very difficult task at first, but as luck would have it, I had been paired up with the Nanase Haruka.

He didn't speak much and the most I've said to him was greetings. He was a member of the recently created swim team, which—amazingly enough—managed to make it all the way to regionals on its first year but was disqualified after some kind of misconduct or something. I wasn't particularly familiar with the rules of competitive swimming, and they didn't make much news after summer so I wasn't sure what exactly they were disqualified for. Ever since swimming season passed, they haven't been very active.

"Well, then," I said, exhaling lightly. "Why don't you go and start to give me an example?"

"Nanase Haruka. 17. I like the water and mackerel."

I glanced over to Tachibana Makoto and his partner beside us. The green-eyed boy smiled distractedly at me with apologizing eyes while taking down notes of the engaging life story his partner was telling him. Like Nanase, Tachibana was a member of the swimming club—the captain, if I wasn't mistaken, with Nanase as his vice-captain or something. They were best friends, it seemed, but most of the time, it looked like Tachibana was Nanase's adoring big brother—other times, it seemed as if he was his busybody mother.

I returned my gaze to the boy in front of me. Nanase had his cheek cradled in his palm, hand half-covering his mouth as his blue eyes focused on the mini-masterpiece of grilled mackerel—I'm just assuming its mackerel, but I'm pretty confident that it was—he was drawing into the margins of his notebook.

I didn't _sigh_—I exhaled a bit heavily. I caught his gaze for a second when his eyes flicked up to me. The bad part about this is that I know he wasn't being purposely difficult—this is really just the way he is.

The sooner we got this thing done and over with, the better it would be for the both of us.

"How long have you been swimming competitively?"

" . . . Since elementary." He was obviously hesitant to answer, but it at least gave me some sense of relief that he actually did. There was hope in finishing this activity properly after all. "I stopped in middle school, but picked it up again this year."

The stopping thing got me a bit curious, but I decided not to push it. A one-page essay was all Hatakeyama needed. I just needed to get the basic facts, a bit of something interesting, and the rest should be easy.

"Have you won any competitions?"

"Lots, during elementary. Mostly short distance freestyle." The corner of his mouth twitched up as he started writing English characters on his notebook, a bit below the grilled mackerel masterpiece. _For the team_. "And one medley relay."

"You and your friends started the swimming club this year, right? How did that happen?"

He stopped drawing, pencil hovering over the surface of his notebook. Putting down his pencil, he turned his head out the window, a wistful sort of look coming onto his face.

"Some old friends came back and one thing led to another," he said, eyes smiling. Nanase was considered good-looking by a unanimous consensus of Iwatobi High's female population, but his profile was really something. He wasn't much of an attention-grabber, and most of the time he was just off to the side, quiet and thoughtful. I had always thought him to be a bit apathetic, but his eyes were particularly expressive now that I got a good look at them.

He seemed to be remembering some good memories, and I didn't really have the heart to interrupt him.

I just started scribbling spirals into my notebook until Nanase finally tore his eyes from the window, meeting my gaze. Lifting his chin from his hand, he sat up straight, tapping the sharpened tip of his pencil on his notebook twice.

"What about you? Any hobbies?"

"Reading," came the automatic answer. It was the safe, default answer—I used it with self-introductions all the time. Dad worked for a publishing company, and Yoichi was taking up comparative literature. Even Nanami was looking into journalistic writing as a course in college. Mom's pretty cultured, too. There have always been a lot of books and reading materials in the house. I had other—probably more interesting—hobbies, but they were kind of niche things that would be difficult to explain. Besides, it's not like this activity's supposed to be enlightening us about ourselves or the secrets of life or anything.

He nodded, scribbling it down. "Any particular genres?"

"Well . . . " I considered myself pretty well-read, but I haven't really had any time for leisure reading lately. When was the last time I picked up a novel that wasn't for class anyway? And moreover, what was the last book I read again? Ever since starting high school, I've been focusing more on my academics. And because of that part-time job I picked up at Dad's office as their errand girl—it paid very well, and they really only made me run around for coffee and make photocopies—I haven't been able to actually relax these past two summers.

Nanase stared, patiently waiting for my answer.

"Uh, fantasy, I guess. Though I won't turn down a good mystery, and I'm partial to epic adventures."

He nodded, writing it all down. "Do you have any favorites?"

When I was eight, I remember making a list of all the books I've read. The ones I really liked were highlighted in orange. What was in that list again? I think I still have it tucked away somewhere in my bedroom. Where did I put it?

"Akutagawa Ryunosuke." The last time I talked to aniki, he was complaining about getting a low grade on a paper he did on one of Akutagawa Ryunosuke's short stories—the one with the murdered man and the seven different accounts of how he died by the people he met that day. I can't remember its title. "His short stories, like, um . . . _The Spider's Thread_."

Luckily enough, despite Amakata-sensei being the swimming club's adviser, Nanase wasn't a literature expert.

"Okay. Do you like swimming?"

For some reason, that question brought a small smile to my face. I guess I sort of expected it—this was _Nanase_ I was talking to after all.

For this question alone, I felt compelled to be completely honest. "I neither like nor dislike it."

"The water is nice, you know."

The way he said that simply made me smile a bit more. Nanase really liked the water, didn't he? There was something altogether refreshing about the notion of it, and I guess it was nice to think about.

I was the youngest of four siblings, and while I'd always been the 'princess,' I was never really the 'baby.' I was a bit more pampered and spoiled than my siblings, but people still expected maturity and responsibility from me, especially now that I would be turning eighteen soon. My father was, by nature, a hardworking and diligent man, and I don't really talk to him much beyond what's needed even though I see him more often now that I picked up that job at his office. My mother was like a superwoman who could do anything and everything—she was intelligent, she cooked, she sewed, she fixed the bathroom sink, she could tell it was a real Louis Vuitton bag they were selling at the second-hand shop for a fifth of its original price. She cared equally for all her children, but I've always felt a little intimated by her skill, so I wasn't really close to her either.

In fact, I don't really consider myself close to anyone. My siblings somehow always found out about the secrets I didn't want them to know, but they never really find out about everything. And, sure, I had my own group of friends here at school, but none of them knew every little detail about me, and I don't know every single thing about them. I shared different secrets with different people, and I guess never really completely gave myself away to one person.

"I almost drowned once, when I was ten," I admitted, and Nanase's eyes widened in surprise. Still, I continued. He was the one who liked water, so this was what I was going to share with him. "I don't remember the last time I went to the beach—it's actually less than half a kilometer away from my house, but I never really did like the feeling of sand in my toes. As for pools—yeah, I still go to pools. Not very much, but it's not like I'm terrified of the water or anything after almost drowning. I can swim—and by 'swim' I mean splash around in the water; nothing like what you guys do—but . . . Yeah. I guess getting in the water is nice, but I don't quite have any special sentiments about it."

The surprise in his eyes was gone, and it was replaced by a mildly confused expression. His eyebrows were scrunched together, mouth slightly open like he wanted to say something but couldn't. It was precisely that awkward silence that made me kind of nervous.

"I don't actually remember almost drowning," I tried to clarify the story as much as I could. "In fact, I don't really remember much of my childhood. I guess . . . nothing really stuck? I just get lots of stories from my parents and siblings—apparently I also get boat-sick, and not to mention I've also fallen off a horse once. I've also walked into the middle of traffic and nearly gotten bulldozed by cars numerous times—most of those I still remember because the last time one happened was a week ago."

The drowning thing is less traumatic than one would think it is. My mother always said that when something bad happens, get back to your feet as soon as you can. If you fail, try again right away so that you're not too scared of trying again. Results won't stay the same way forever. It helps that I don't really clearly remember anything from before I was 12. My long-term memory has always been shot and I only know about the things that happened to me when I was younger because there are pictures and my parents or siblings tell me about it when I ask them if it really happened. I guess that's part of the reason I do better on tests when I cram.

Also, I'm not easy to scare, and when Yoichi picks up horror and suspense for movie nights, I never scream when something jumps into the screen. Sure, I get surprised, but my reactions include more heart-skips-a-beat-while-keeping-a-poker-face-on than shriek-my-lungs-out-and-make-the-neighbors-call-th e-police-for-disturbing-the-peace.

I guess I don't really think much about the scary stuff and bad things that happen to me. I'm not the philosophical type, but I have thought about dying a couple of times. I've always been of the mindset that I would like to die young and successful rather than old and withered. Is that why I can't get post-traumatic stress?

Am I the type to welcome death with open arms?

Nanase was still just staring with furrowed brows, and I was getting pretty antsy because of it. He was usually quiet, but this kind of quiet was putting me on edge. Nanase wasn't someone I was particularly close with, but he turned out to be pretty easy to talk to—even though it's just for a class activity, I told him a lot more than I originally intended.

I drummed my fingers against the skin below the hem of my skirt. Goddammit, say something already.

" . . . Mizunashi is weird."

I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath.

I'll take whatever I can get.

* * *

Hatakeyama gave back the graded essays three days later.

_93_

Good enough, I guess.

I folded up the paper in half and slipped it into my bag.

"Nanase, see me during lunch."

I looked over my shoulder to see Nanase taking his paper from the teacher. Hatakeyama moved on down the line, going back to distributing the papers once again. Nanase caught my gaze but immediately bowed his head, purposely avoiding me. His fingers deftly folded his paper in half, slipping it into his notebook. He cradled his chin into his palm, turning his gaze to the side and staring out the window.

I couldn't help but wonder why Hatakeyama wanted to talk to him. A nervous churning started in the pit of my stomach. That Nanase—just what did he write in that essay?

I turned my gaze back to the front. I didn't tell him any embarrassing or disturbing stories—the drowning thing was something Hatakeyama knew about, since I already wrote an essay about it last year. The only comment he wrote at the end of that was, "_The creative formatting works very well with the emotions you portray, and the imagery is very good._" I remember because I got a perfect score on that.

Other than the drowning thing, I didn't really give Nanase anything too personal. The rest of the information I told him was pretty much the stuff you would see on a bio-data. Name, age, birthday, family members, hobbies. I told him about being on the track team in middle school, and making it all the way to nationals on my third year. I didn't place, but it had been a good experience nonetheless, and I started focusing more on my academics after entering high school. I told him about aiming to go to a college in Tokyo. Nanami had been accepted at aniki's university and would be living with him at his apartment starting next school year. To make things easier for my parents, I wanted to get into the same place—Juugo-nii-san had been accepted there, too, but he also got offered a full scholarship by his current college in Osaka, so he took it.

I thought about the essay I wrote—it was pretty basic, I suppose. I focused on playing up Nanase's swimming. I started with a general background about him—a bit about his family, likes and dislikes, his side hobbies—he liked drawing and his friends told him he was a pretty good cook. I put in some things about how he really loved the water, but I mostly went on about his time as a competitive swimmer during elementary.

It's not like I wrote anything bad about him. It got a pretty high grade and Hatakeyama didn't write any comments—positive or negative—either.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder, only to find Nanase mindlessly doodling into his notebook once again.

Hatakeyama finished giving back the papers, walking back to the front of the classroom to officially start class.

* * *

**Free Talk:**

Why, hello! Thanks for reading this far and giving this story a chance. :) I just want to use this opportunity to say some important things about this fic.

First off, this is going to be a **short story** and will be **finished** in **3 chapters**. I guess you can call it a mini-series? This entire story is actually already finished; I'm just going to be uploading each part weekly so that I have time to further polish the next chapters and take in your comments.

Second, this is a **personal fic**, so it's going to verge **self-insert** at some points and the canon characters will be **OOC** at some parts. Kazuya is not completely me though—some of the decisions and actions she makes are things I would never do, but her basis as a character is rooted in me, and most of her thoughts and opinions are mine as well. I just feel like I'm very overdue for a coming-of-age fic, so I guess you can call this story something that I need to write to be able to move on with my own life. I hope you guys understand.

Third, like I said, this is a personal, coming-of-age fic, so there's not going to be much romance, but it is hinted at. I guess, just don't expect lovey-dovey waves and be prepared for something kinda sad in tone? Yeah, this is a pretty mellow fic, I suppose. Also, this is written in first-person—narration is entirely from Kazuya's point of view, so, uhhh, there're a lot of holes in logic and unexplained points and wrong assumptions on her part. LOL, I guess what I'm trying to say here is that while this fic will be able to stand alone, I'm maybe open to making a full-length sequel that's not a personal fic if you guys like it enough. ;)

Once again, thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoy this little project of mine.

**General Disclaimer:** _Free!_ is not mine. The OCs and this story as it is presented, however, is mine. So is that verse at the top—it's a little something I made for the purpose of this story. They're not song lyrics or from a poem or anything.

* * *

Just in case you're curious:

Kazuya = 一八 = 1, 8 = January 8

Yoichi = 四一 = 4, 1 = April 1

Juugo = 十五 = 10, 5 = October 5

Nanami = 七三 = 7, 3 = July 3

Because I'm punny like that, harhar.

Also, Akutagawa Ryunosuke is a real Japanese short story writer. The story Kazuya's thinking about is entitled _In a Grove_. _The Spider's Thread_ is another Akutagawa story about a thief who went to hell but because he did one good deed in his life, a Buddha offered him a way out by lowering a spider's thread to him that he could use to climb out of hell. The thief started climbing up the thread, but other sinners from hell started climbing up after him and the thread couldn't take the weight. The thief shouted at them to let go and go away, so the thread snapped and he fell into hell. If any of you are interested in reading the stories, there should be full texts available to read online. Just Google them.

* * *

**Follow-up Stuff:**

Uh, yeah. If any of you are following my KnB fanfic, _Freundeskreis_, uh, uhm . . . I'm working on it, I promise. Things have been hectic because I'm in the middle of exam period, but for the life of me, I couldn't start with the writing on any of my final papers until I churned this out, sooooo. New chapter will be around the end of October. I have a break after this week, but I'm probably going to puke out a project proposal until my mind gets some rest, so consider this story as a temporary replacement.


	2. cleansing of the mind

The swimming club's clubroom was located on the same rooftop as the pool.

It was on one of the older buildings. I heard that it had been unused for almost ten years until Nanase and his friends cleaned it up again to start their club. Amakata-sensei was their adviser, and they had a grand total of five members—and that was already including their manager. So technically, they only really had four members who actually competed, and one of them was a total swimming newbie who had previously been on the track and field team.

In my first year, I got invited to join the track team by a senpai from middle school who supported us when we made it to nationals. There were four of us third years who passed regionals—I placed third on the 100-meter dash. None of us placed in nationals, but rather than be disappointed, the entire team had been happy with even making it there in the first place. Our school wasn't especially strong, and making it to regionals was achievement enough. Two of us were here in Iwatobi—me and Ikina Yukimi. The other two went to different schools. Ikina joined the team on our first year, and I heard they even made it to regionals last year.

It was the first week of September, and the air was already starting to get frigid. It wasn't likely that they would be swimming with it being so cold. Swimming season was already over, in any case, but someone from our class said Tachibana and Nanase had headed up here after the bell rang.

The metal door creaked when I opened it. The sound was high-pitched, and made me flinch slightly. It swung back into place slowly, heavily closing with a dull click.

The pool was well-kept, I would admit. The surroundings were clean, and the water was sparkling under the late afternoon sunlight. The rooftop was empty, except for one black-haired boy crouched by the edge of the pool, hand dipped into the waters.

"Oi, Nanase."

I marched forward with thrown-back shoulders, and he only lifted his head slightly after I cast a shadow over him. He gave no other hint of acknowledging my presence, still looking straight out at the water.

Finally, after a few tense seconds, he spoke up. "Do you need something?"

"You . . . what did you write?" I crossed my arms over my chest, fingers clawing at the cloth of my blazer.

"Your biography."

I took in a deep breath. At least he wasn't claiming ignorance.

"Nanase, the guidance counselor cornered me after class," I gritted out. "The _guidance counselor_—Nanase, are you listening? She started asking me if I've been having problems lately—school, family, friends, relationships. What on earth did you write in that biography that made them think I have issues?!"

His head turned to the left—the movement was slight, but I caught it because I had been glaring a hole into the back of his head.

" . . . don't have friends."

"Stop mumbling, I can't hear you," I bit out.

"You don't have any friends."

"Oh really? You might've written my biography, but since when have you been an expert on my life?" I asked a bit crossly. "Anyway—what makes you think I don't have any friends? I have Komatsu, Date, Taniguchi—"

"People you just eat lunch with aren't real friends," he snapped back.

"Is that so?" I asked dryly. "And the people who eavesdrop on others' private conversations are real friends?"

Nanase's head sharply turned to the right. There was some frantic scrambling somewhere below where the railings of the elevated pool area's end, along with the sharp click of a door closing.

"Come out."

The door opened hesitantly, and the Swimming Club's members slowly and nervously came shuffling out. Tachibana's head was clearly visible as he ushered the people in front of him. The climbed up the stairs and lined up in front of the rails like guilty convicts, heads bowed to the floor.

Tachibana simply forced a smile onto his face, scratching on his chin with a finger.

"Ah, Haru, Mizunashi-san, we're really sorry," he apologized, his voice relaying honest sincerity. "We didn't mean to eavesdrop, honest. We just, um . . . got a bit curious."

"It was Nagisa-kun's idea!" the one with glasses frantically said, pointing to the blond standing beside him.

"That's right!" the girl said. "Nagisa-kun is at fault!"

"Wha—hey! It's not like you guys protested or anything!" the blond, Nagisa-kun, said.

"That's not true!" the girl said hurriedly, waving her hands in the air. "Haruka-senpai, I told him not to do it—"

"I disapproved of it all the way!" the one with the glasses added.

"Gou-chan and Rei-chan are horrible!" the blond stomped a foot, turning to Tachibana with teary, pleading eyes and a quivering lip. "Mako-chan, Mako-chan! Tell Haru-chan it wasn't my fault—"

I covered my mouth with a hand, choking down the laughter. I was still mad at Nanase, but those three were just too funny. The angry tension in my shoulders had subsided slightly, and when I realized, I looked to the side in an attempt to hide it.

Nanase met my gaze through the peripheral of his vision before turning back to stare at the water.

"They're real friends."

He said it softly, but I could hear it clearly over the babbling of the foursome a few feet away.

I was under the impression that I made friends easily. As long as I knew a person's name and a little something about him, I considered him a friend. Heck, I even considered Nanase and Tachibana my friends by virtue of being classmates with them. It didn't matter that I didn't know anything else about them aside from their names and where they sat in class. I even considered friends of my friends my own, though I've probably exchanged less than three words with them. I considered anyone I was associated with a 'friend.'

Was I taking the term too lightly?

I had the group I ate lunch with and talked to in between classes. I had people to team up with when there were projects that required group work, and I was never picked last for teams in PE. Even then, I spent most of my weekends alone at home in front of my computer, and I don't really go out with friends to just 'have fun.' The times we went out to eat, or to shop, or to the arcade, or the karaoke place were usually special occasions—it was somebody's birthday, or exams had just finished, or we were going to photocopy each other's notes. Those trips always had a purpose besides just spending time with 'friends.'

I enjoyed my time at the track and field team during middle school. We all shed blood, sweat and tears together, so it's kind of hard to not consider them friends. But that was just it—they were my 'track and field team friends'—when the time came for practice to end, we all went our separate ways. I hadn't been in the same classes as any of them, and I never attempted to contact them outside business of the track and field club. I lived in a relatively obscure part of town, and no one really went the same way I did. Sometimes, I'd stop by for ice cream at a nearby convenience store with a few others, but I didn't really see them much outside school and club activities.

Out of school and club activities, the people I spent time with were my family, online friends, and—

The three first years were still making a racket, and Tachibana was playing mommy. Nanase was still staring blankly out to space, hand dipped into the water. His broad shoulders were hunched, and my leg twitched. When my siblings and I were still young—before Nanami and I came into puberty—we would all take baths together. Yoichi always played around, and the sound of splashing water was nostalgic.

Before I even knew what I was doing, my foot was flat on his back. Nanase picked his hand up out of the water, turning his head, his mouth opening—probably to ask me what the hell I was doing.

I didn't have an answer to that question, so it would be best to get it out of his mind.

Nanase loved the water, right?

"Aaah! Haru—! Mizunashi-san, what are you—?"

The impact of his fall sent splashes onto the edge of the pool, and my socks and indoor shoes were soaked in chlorinated water. The sound of splashing water brought a smile to my face, but I held it back in light of the current situation.

Nanase stayed as a dark shadow underwater for a few seconds, but I was still myself enough to know that it wasn't anything to worry about. He was a goddamn swimmer; he wasn't going to drown, even if he was pushed by surprise into the pool.

When Nanase finally broke through the surface, he took in a deep breath through his mouth before sinking back down again. His hair splayed messily across his forehead in licks and wet chunks hung limply over his temples. The water came up to his nose, and small bubbles formed in front of his face. His eyes were glaring, but there was something like a spark of playfulness that shimmered in them.

I only noticed this now, but Nanase's eyes were really blue.

"Hmph."

I sharply turned on my heel, flipping my hair for emphasis. As I walked pass them, the three first years hid behind Tachibana, who could only smile nervously at me. I yanked open the metal door and let it swing close. I knew it would be too heavy for me to slam, so I wasn't going to embarrass myself by trying.

I gripped onto the railing as I went down the stairs, being extra careful because my shoes were wet and I was shaking with poorly masked laughter. It might've been a horrible thing to do and Nanase was probably going to catch a cold tomorrow, but at least I wasn't angry anymore.

* * *

_2_. cleansing of the mind

* * *

"Achoo!"

I kept my eyes trained at the printed text of our literature book.

"_Achoo!_"

Finally, Amakata-sensei sighed. "Nanase-kun, please go to the clinic and get some rest."

There was a bit of mumbling at the back.

Tachibana spoke up, "Ah, sensei, I'll take him—"

There was a screech of metal against stone. "No. Mizunashi can accompany me. She's on duty today, isn't she?"

I covered my face in my hands to block off all the stares sent my way. Immediately, the classroom was filled with a flurry of whispers.

"Eh? Mizunashi and Nanase? Since when?"

"It must've been Hakateyama's biography activity."

"Ahh, I wish I had been partnered up with Nanase-kun!"

"Mizunashi-san."

I looked up warily, and Amakata-sensei's brown eyes were sparkling. Her smile was sweet as honey and it made me want to puke. I didn't like honey.

"Please accompany Nanase-kun to the clinic," she said. Hugging the literature book tightly to her chest with one hand, she raised the other with the pointer finger stretched out. "And if the nurse isn't there, please make sure to keep Nanase-kun company until she returns, _okay_~?"

I could hear the hearts in her tone.

I smiled thinly in response. "Of course, sensei."

I stood up from my seat, walking down the aisles. I focused my gaze on Tachibana, who sat next to Nanase. The green-eyed boy had this cutely confused expression on his face. Clearly, Nanase hadn't explained anything about our—_fight_, as you could call it, yesterday.

I quickly glanced at Nanase through the corner of my eye. His nose was red, and his gaze was a bit watery, but they were still as blue as yesterday, though it's not like I expected him to suddenly change eye color or something. Still, there was something like 'ulterior motive' spread across the smooth blankness of his expression.

I clicked my tongue, nodding once at him and extending an open palm toward the door like a gracious waitress at some fancy restaurant.

"This way, if it please you, Nanase-kun."

. . . Okay, I admit it. That was overkill, and Nanase clearly thought so as well if the raised eyebrow he sent my way was any clue.

The entire class was silent as Nanase and I walked out. The sound of the door sliding open and close echoed like a fighter jet at mach speed in my ears. Nanase was quiet as well as we went down the halls, the only sounds being our footsteps and his occasional sniffling.

The clinic was a floor below, so we headed down the stairs. However, Nanase gently caught me by the cloth of my vest on our way down, and we both halted to a stop.

"—sorry."

I sighed. I arrived at school early today to talk properly to the guidance counselor. It took a while, and I was almost late for the first class, but I managed to convince her that nothing was wrong. She left it at that, but made me promise to talk to someone—anyone—if I had any problems. In the end, it all got resolved pretty easily. Yesterday was clearly an overreaction on my part. I had acted rashly, taking my anger out on Nanase, who probably didn't mean anything bad in the first place.

It's just being talked to by the guidance counselor was something new to me. I've never really had big problems in life, and the only time I ever spoke to a guidance counselor was for high school and career counseling during middle school. I panicked yesterday because I didn't think that I'd ever have to be _guided_.

He let go of my vest and I turned around. He was two steps above me, so the height difference was more pronounced.

"About what?" I asked, turning my head to the side. I shifted my weight nervously from one foot to the other, rubbing my left hand down along the length of my right arm. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing for kicking you into the pool yesterday. You even caught a cold because of me."

" . . . Yeah, I got sick because of you."

The arrogant tone his voice was laced with was kind of new to me. I was used to Nanase being indifferent and maybe even a bit cold and apathetic; certainly not high-and-mighty.

"Anyway—" I started to change the subject because that tone aggravated me more than it made it nervous. I placed on hand on my hip, "Really though—out of curiosity, exactly what did you write in that essay?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and one end of his mouth slanted down to form a frown. His shoulders visibly slumped and he tilted his head to the side.

" . . . You really don't remember us?" he asked, and the disappointment in his tone was almost tangible. Guilt suddenly bubbled at the pit of my stomach and I wanted to reach out to him and apologize for not remembering whatever it was he was referring to, but my body wouldn't respond. "Your brother, Yoichi-san, used to work part-time at the old swimming school."

I brought a hand up, placing a finger against my lips. Oh. Now I remember. Aniki worked as a pool-boy at the local swimming school during summer to get free access to a pool. The owner liked his jokes, so he let him bring us along sometimes. We got free swimming lessons from one of the extra-jubilant coaches. Nothing serious though—just enough to make sure we wouldn't drown when in the water.

"Now that I think about . . . "

"That's how I and Makoto first met you," he said. Bringing a hand to the back of his head, he said, "You've changed a lot since then, so I kind of wrote about that."

Now it was his turn to avoid my gaze. I raised an eyebrow. Honestly though, how could he have expected that I hadn't changed over—what, five years? More, even?

"You were . . . happier then."

I bristled a bit at that. It wasn't like I _wasn't_ happy now. Aniki was a happy person in general, and it usually spread to the people around him. I could admit to being less—visibly happy?—ever since Yoichi went away for college. I'm not the type to wear their emotions on their sleeves, but it was really just easier to be more emotive when aniki was around. Even Juugo, the loner brother who was always quiet and prickly as a porcupine, would show a little more emotion when Yoichi was around.

"It's just . . . I saw a close friend in you," he admitted. "He also changed. He was cheerful and carefree, but then he moved away to attend a school overseas. When I met him again—he was a different person. There were a lot of problems that came up over the summer. We've resolved them and moved on, but I guess I still have some lingering issues with it. I sort of pushed him onto you and wrote something not quite accurate in the essay. I'm sorry for that."

Nanase and Tachibana were in that swimming school together, I remember now. That one medley relay he said he won—I remember that now, too. There were four of them. Nanase and Tachibana. The other one was that blond in the swimming club—Nagisa-kun. I remember him, too. Hazuki Nagisa, always bubbly and he really liked aniki's jokes. Then there was that other one Nanami had a crush on—he was the one who moved away. Was he the one Nanase was referring to? What was his name again?

"Mizunashi?"

I stared back at Nanase, brought away from my thoughts. God, I really have forgotten about my childhood, haven't I? I suppose the memories are still there—just locked away because they weren't relevant anymore. The past was the past, and I was about to turn eighteen. By this time next year, I'd be taking college entrance exams and planning out how I would spend the rest of my life. Iwatobi was just a small town, but the people seemed to come and go quite easily. What more on the bigger scale of the world?

"Are you alright?" Nanase asked, brows furrowed together in worry.

"I'm fine," I waved a hand dismissively, taking a step back.

I had conveniently forgotten we were on the stairs, and my foot slipped down, causing me to fall off balance.

"Mizunashi!"

"Ah—"

Luckily, Nanase caught me by the arm before I completely fell and hit my head. With one hand on the rail, he pulled me upright and sighed.

"Well, that part of you hasn't changed," he said a bit dryly. "You're still a magnet for accidents. I remember when you started chasing your brother around in the pool and slipped on a wet spot. You hit your head so bad, they had to rush you to the hospital."

I blinked. " . . . That really happened?" I don't remember it at all.

"The doctors said there wasn't any lasting damage. Apparently, you have a pretty hard head," he smirked a bit at that and I hit him on the arm for it. He didn't react at all. "But you know, the doctors could've been wrong. Maybe that's why you have such a bad memory."

"Please stop with the jokes," I replied tonelessly. "Aren't I supposed to be dragging _you_ to the clinic?"

As if on cue, Nanase sneezed.

Sighing, I pulled a handkerchief out of my skirt pocket. I held it out to him and he took it with a quietly mumbled thanks.

"Keep it," I said tiredly, turning on my heel. This time, I remembered that we were on the stairs and carefully held onto the railing. "Even if you wash it, I don't want something with Nanase germs on it."

" . . . 'Nanase germs'? What's with that? Are you a grade-schooler or something?"

"Leave it alone."


	3. circle of friends

"_ . . . Nanase Haruka? Oh! You mean those four who won the medley relay? The guys with the girly names? I remember them!_"

I smiled, hugging my knees close to my chest. I pinned the phone receiver between my head and shoulder, twirling the wire around a finger.

"Nanase and Tachibana are in my class. Hazuki-kun is a year below, and Matsuoka-kun is apparently at a different school. They're all still friends, though," I said.

"_Are they all still swimming? God, this brings back memories. Last I heard, they'd already abandoned the old building and there are plans to tear it down. Ah, do you have any news of Goro-chan? You remember the coach who taught you and Juugo and Nana to swim?_"

"They're all still swimming. Actually, Nanase, Tachibana and Hazuki just formed the Iwatobi High Swimming Club this year, but they made it to regionals already. Aren't they great?" I enthused. "And Goro-chan is Coach Sasabe, right? I haven't heard anything about him, but I can ask."

"_Woah, really? I'm glad for them! Oh, right! You should totally invite them for dinner some time when I come home for Christmas break. I'd love to see them again._" Yoichi's chuckles carried smoothly through the static. "_You probably won't understand this yet, but re-meeting people gives you a really good feeling. Life gets a lot more difficult when you're older, so it's nice to be able to go back to your childhood. It's why I try to come back home as much as possible._"

I smiled, staring at the wall in front of me. "Nah, I think I understand."

"_Oh, really?_"

I stretched my legs out in front of me, bringing my hands up to grip the phone's receiver. "Aniki . . . I miss you."

Yoichi had always been our guardian angel. He was the eldest out of the four of us, so naturally, he took the leader role in our group. He took care of us. He made us try new things, brought us to different places. He offered us the world, and when he went away for college, Juugo, Nanami and I slowly grew apart. He was the glue between us siblings, and to be honest, nothing in the house was really the same without him.

"_I miss you guys, too,_" Yoichi sighed sadly. "_But you have to understand that I won't always be there for you. Juugo's busy with his studies, but he tries to visit me whenever he has a conference or something in Tokyo. Nana texts a lot. Mom always calls and Dad sends emails regularly. Honestly, Kazu, you're the one I've been worried about the most._"

I brought my legs up to my chest again.

"_Nana says you're doing well in school, but you didn't join a club again this year. I know you kept that part-time job at Dad's office, but don't you think you should be a little more enthusiastic about your high school life? You have all the time in the world to work after college and it's not like you really need the money. Don't you want to run track anymore?_"

" . . . I don't want to run anymore," I mumbled quietly.

Yoichi didn't reply for a while.

"_I can live with that._" I could almost hear the smile in his face and it made me smile as well. "_Then, why don't you join the swimming club? Haru and the others seem like good influences on you._"

I twisted in my spot, leaning my shoulder against the wall and pressing my forehead on the leg of the table that held the telephone.

"I'm already in my second year. It's not like I can suddenly start swimming competitively. In the first place, I'm not even trained properly."

"_Join as a manager then._"

"They already have a manager."

"_Not like another one's gonna hurt._"

"There're only four members," I smiled lightly.

"_What? Don't you like Haru and the guys?_"

I hesitated to answer. "It's not that . . . "

"_What? Do you get pervy thoughts when you see them in Speedos? Hmm, I guess that's reasonable. You guys're in high school now after all—_"

"Please don't confuse me with yourself," I gritted out, fighting to keep down the blush threatening to invade my face. Shit, now that aniki's made me think about it, images of Nanase and Tachibana shirtless and wearing tight pants keep popping up in my head.

Oh god, my mind's throwing a party in the gutter.

I heard aniki laughing from the other end.

"Shut up!"

"Kazu, you okay?"

Nanami came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Mom was helping a friend pick out clothes for her children—the father was getting an award at the company's anniversary party and they were invited to come along or something—and would be home pretty late, so Nanami had been put in charge of dinner.

"Who're you talking to?"

"Ah, nee-san, it's ani—"

"_NANA-CHAN!? THAT YOU!?_"

Nanami's face brightened. "Aniki!"

She grabbed the phone, and started happily blabbering into it.

I sighed lightly, smiling. Shrugging it off, I stood up from the floor and headed upstairs.

Entering my room, I picked up my laptop from my desk and headed to my bed, sinking into the mattress. I flipped open the laptop's lid, and the screen lit up. Typing in my password, I waited for it to enter the desktop. Launching the internet browser, I settled back into my pillow and stretched my fingers, preparing for the long night ahead of me.

* * *

Around twenty minutes later, my phone vibrated beside my thigh.

_**From:**__ Mizunashi Yoichi_

_**Subject:**__ Join the swimming club_

_It was nice talking to you again. Call more often. Love you._

* * *

_**From:**__ Mizunashi Yoichi_

_**Subject:**__ I just talked to Goro-chan again_

_He hasn't changed numbers yet._

_He says Haru and the others got some pretty nice abs. _ლ(´ڡ`ლ)

* * *

_3_. circle of friends

* * *

The lunch bell rang at precisely 12 noon.

Hatakeyama ended the class, reminding us about the writing exercise we had to pass before school ended. Everyone started either pulling out their lunch boxes or heading out to the cafeteria.

It was now or never.

I picked up the paper bag I had brought along with me, tightly gripping the twine handle and gave a quick glance over at Komatsu, who sat behind me.

"Ah, Komatsu, sorry, but I can't have lunch with you guys today," I quickly apologized and walked away before she could say anything.

I slipped down the line of desks and stopped in front of Nanase's table.

"Nanase."

The black-haired boy looked up curiously, a wrapped bento in his hands.

"I wanted to apologize properly for the other day," I said a bit hurriedly.

He blinked, glancing at Tachibana beside him.

"It wasn't a big deal," Nanase replied. "It's not like I held a grudge about it. There's nothing to forgive."

I lifted up the paper bag to his desk. "I made lunch. Enough for the entire swim team. Umm, there are five of you, right?"

"Ah, Mizunashi-san, you shouldn't have," Tachibana said embarrassedly, standing from his chair and waving his hands in front of him. "There wasn't any need to go through all that trouble. Besides, it's not like you did anything wrong to us. We can't possibly accept this."

"There's mackerel with pineapple glaze."

Nanase's chair screeched back, and he looked at me with shimmering eyes. "This way. We usually eat by the pool. I'll help you carry it."

He picked up the paper bag like it was something sacred, holding it reverently in his hands. Tachibana sighed, defeated, as Nanase walked away.

He eyed me with a small, amused smile. "That was a dirty trick, Mizunashi-san. Using information from a class activity like that."

I smiled cheekily at him. "It's not all fish. There's some grilled squid in there, too."

Tachibana blushed, chuckling lightly as he scratched the back of his head. "You haven't changed. You've always been clever."

My smile faltered a bit. So Tachibana remembered me, too? It kind of made me feel guilty knowing that I didn't remember a thing about them until Nanase spoke up. It's not like I only met them once. Aniki took us to that swimming school nearly every week of summer, and sometimes during the school year too, when he thought we needed to relax. I was at least sure that I had an excuse to not know anything about them during middle school because I went to an all-girls' school. We were in different classes last year, but I wonder if they saw me in the halls or something and recognized me while I had absolutely no memory of their faces?

And it took me the whole first term and summer season to actually talk to them, too. I've only ever greeted Nanase, but now that I thought about it, I introduced myself to Tachibana once at the beginning of the school year. Ah, shit—I wonder if he thought I was purposely pretending to not know him then. Did he think I was snubbing him or something?

"Oi, Makoto, Mizunashi. What are you just standing there for? I'm hungry," Nanase called out from under the doorway.

Tachibana gave me a kind smile and then I remembered that he wasn't the type to judge a person based on one thing alone. "Let's go?"

* * *

Predictably, the three first years stared at me with wary eyes when I stepped onto the roof after Tachibana.

Nanase sat down beside Hazuki and began pulling out the contents of the paper bag. I had packed the meals plainly in colored plastic containers since I didn't have the time or energy to bother much for presentation after making sure it tasted good. Nanase's mackerel with pineapple glaze and Tachibana's grilled squid both had separate containers of their own. I wasn't sure what the others liked, but to be on the safe side, I made omelets, octopus hotdogs and fried chicken. I also prepared a side of salad with crisp lettuce, and fresh slices of tomatoes and cucumbers sprinkled with vinaigrette, and a small container of steamed vegetables. For dessert, there was a light lemon chiffon cake Nana helped me bake and I bought drinks from the vending machine, making Tachibana carry them all so that he would stop with the constant mutterings of, "_We can't possibly accept this much._" The rice was prepared into lightly seasoned onigiri, and I had packed paper plates and disposable wooden chopsticks for use.

"Uwaaah~! It's a picnic!" Hazuki exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together. He stared at me with bright eyes as I sat between Nanase and Tachibana, completing our little circle beside the pool. "Did Kazu-chan make everything by herself?"

"You remember me?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Again, it made me feel guilty. Nanase, Tachibana and Hazuki—they all remembered me from years ago and I had completely forgotten about them. What else was I forgetting?

"Of course! You're Yo-nii-chan's favorite sibling!" he said. "I didn't know you attended Iwatobi High, too! And you're even in Haru-chan and Mako-chan's class! Why didn't you drop by sooner? It was the first time I saw you again, so I was kinda shocked that you argued with Haru-chan and kicked him into the pool, but if this is how you apologize, then you can argue with and kick him into the pool all you want!"

"Oi, Nagisa," Nanase said sternly with a dry glare at the blonde, who simply grinned cheerily, replying with a wink and an innocent, "_Tee hee._"

"Well—" Tachibana cut in, ever the mediator. "Nagisa might remember you from our swimming school days, but the other two you probably don't know."

"I remember her," the red-haired girl said with a bright smile. "Mizunashi Kazuya-san, right? I'm—"

"Matsuoka Kou," I finished for her, smiling. "Matsuoka Rin-kun's sister, right? I remember you. Is your brother doing well?"

She smiled, a bit of pink staining her cheeks. "Ah, yes! He's attending Samezuka Academy right now. We sometimes have joint practice sessions with them. It's nice to see you again after such a long time, Mizunashi-senpai. Are your siblings doing well?"

"They're doing great," I replied, momentarily cutting our conversation short. I turned to the last boy—the one wearing glasses. He blushed slightly after I turned my attention to him.

"Oh, I'm—"

"Ryuugazaki Rei-kun," I nodded. "I heard about you from Nonomura-senpai. She said the swimming club stole one of the better freshmen from the boys' team."

He covered up his blush with his hand, which pushed his red-framed glasses up his nose. "Ah, yes. I've also heard of you. You're part of Araki Girls' Track and Field Club's Miracle Four who made it to the nationals the year before last. Nonomura-senpai brags about you a lot, considering Ikina-senpai is also on the team and one of the best runners."

Now it was my turn to blush. "We're not that miraculous. We didn't even place."

"Uwaah! That's so amazing! Kazu-chan, you do track? And you went national?" Hazuki asked, biting into an onigiri.

"Nagisa! Why are you eating already?" Tachibana scolded.

The blonde pointed at the other second year. "But-but—Haru-chan's already dug in!"

Tachibana tiredly sighed turning to the black-haired boy sitting on my other side. "Haru, really . . . "

Nanase turned to me, one hand occupied by a piece of onigiri, the other by chopsticks that held a piece of pineapple-glazed mackerel.

"Kazuya, this is really good."

I paused a bit, fighting back the blush. I forced myself to frown, "Just because I apologized and fed you doesn't mean we're close enough that I'd let you use my first name without honorifics like that."

Nanase wrinkled his nose.

"But . . . I don't like saying '_Mizunashi_.'"

There was a moment of silence that fell on us before Hazuki started outright laughing, and everyone else followed with small chuckles.

I picked up a pair of chopsticks, taking them out of the plastic and snapping them in half.

"Just because it's you, Nanase," I sighed over-dramatically as I picked up an onigiri. "I'll let it slide. _Itadakimasu_."

"What? Just Haru-chan?" Hazuki pouted. "What about the rest of us?"

"You already call me 'Kazu-chan,'" I pointed out, picking up an octopus hotdog. "But, I guess it's fine for everyone else to use my first name, too. It's not like we aren't all friends."

"That's right! Kazu-chan is also a girl with a boyish name!" Hazuki said, voice ringing. "She should join the swimming club! She fits right in!"

"Exactly what kind of requirements does this club have?" Tachibana asked, shaking his head tiredly.

Tachibana and Hazuki babbled on, with Matsuoka cutting in with a comment every now and then. Ryuugazaki-kun was muttering something about how perfectly cut one of the star-shaped carrot slices were.

I chewed thoughtfully on my onigiri.

"What was that you said before? '_People you just eat lunch with aren't real friends_'?"

Nanase froze with a piece of mackerel half-way into his mouth, quickly glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. He bit down, chewing and swallowing. He looked over his shoulder, and into the shimmering waters of the pool.

He glanced at me, and his eyes really were a wonderful shade of ocean blue.

"They're real friends."

* * *

**A/N:** And that's the end. :") Honestly, no excuse for lateness other than RL cutting in. Hm, well, I'm still considering drawing this out into a full story to explain the holes in Kazuya's memory, but I'll let you guys decide if this is good enough for that. Tell me if you think I should make the full story in a review or something. I'd love to hear what you think.

But for now, I guess this is it. Thanks a lot for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story. :)

Also, Mizunashi = "no water" ;)


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